Memories, Mere Memories
by Dark Glass Marionette
Summary: "Time will prove you wrong, my friend, and so will I." Until then, loneliness had been his curse.


**Author's Note:** Yay, pre-Christmas GMD oneshot! Some others are on their way, though I may not be able to post them around the 24th. No matter, at least this one's here. I'm not too satisfied with it, but I just had to get the idea out of my head. I'm focusing a bit more on Basil in here and connection with Holmes; I only wrote it from a different angle. Any typos or anything, let me know. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Basil of Baker Street' (or Great Mouse Detective, Disney-wise); copyright goes to Eve Titus/Disney.**

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**September 19th, 1897.**

The first time I, let's say, dared to spy on Basil were fruitless: either he was deep in thought as he read through thick volumes or he was preparing the necessary components to carry out whatever task he had at hand, whether he was on a case or it was just for fun; it tended to be the former. Some other times after supper, Basil dashed away from the table without saying a word, brisk and quick like mercury itself. I once decided to ask Ms. Judson about Basil's night activities and find out for good, but she had never inquired as to what they consisted of herself. It confused me, but I knew how introverted and secretive Basil could be at times. I didn't insist much, not until the five days in a row that I found Basil asleep on his armchair and apparently having arrived shortly from wherever he had been. The fifth day was the last straw.

And so, I set out to find out.

That time, which was yesterday night, I waited until he was gone. After some thorough exploration around Basil's home, I found out it was the hole behind his map basket that he had been using to sneak out of Holmestead in every 'disappearance'. I remembered where that led: 221B. We had used that passage to get to Toby during the Flaversham case, but I very much doubted Basil would go up in the middle of the night just to spend some time with the hound and return at barely dusk. He was a bit more professional than that –or so I had seen until this day- but his sense of both humour and conduct astound me at times: he can be childish at times, but more mature than any adult I've ever known. It is because of this that I still think everything is possible where Basil is concerned.

After climbing up all the ledges and pipes that led up to 221B, I found Basil dead ahead, his back to me and his tail swinging from side to side. He was peeking inside the residence through the door in the skirting board. I had heard of the two humans that lived in 221B –I'd seen them during our first visit, in fact- and I could now hear them talking. In that moment, as I took as step towards my friend, Basil turned to me, his eyes slightly wide. His features mellowed and he finally smiled.

"You never give up, do you, old fellow?"

But despite his smile, I was not pleased to find him there. With the dim light that came through the gap in the board, I could see how much the bags under his eyes stood out and I could see in his stance that he was exhausted; still, I had never seen him pay so much attention. I crossed my arms in disapproval.

"Considering I've found you sleeping in your armchair for five days in a row and this could've very well been the sixth, you didn't expect me to, or did you?" I chastised him, but Basil only widened his smile. What could be keeping him so happy? And let's not mention careless: I couldn't believe he held his health in such a low regard.

"No, I suppose not." Basil sighed, turned his eyes to the gap once more, and I was forced to approach him and discover the source of his interest. It was the humans after all! I remembered Holmes, who was sitting in an armchair next to the fire; perhaps he was who Basil was watching so intently? I followed his gaze and proved my suspicions correct. "Before you ask, Dawson, yes: they are the reason behind my escapades. You know I don't have many hobbies, so to speak, but coming up here is one of them."

"You know spying is rude, but who am I to speak?" I couldn't keep my angry face for much longer; I just had to throw in some humour. "But may I at least know the reason behind your lack of sleep? I thought you knew better than to deprive yourself from a good night's rest."

All of a sudden, Basil raised a hand and withdrew a step, closing the door a bit more with his free hand. He was tense, alert, like any mouse would be in the presence of humans. Though I could see caution, I didn't see fear. I heard steps that left the parlour and, after a few seconds, they fell quiet. It was then and only then that Basil released his breath and stepped outside his hideout and into the human detective's home. I followed behind, quite cautious and distrustful. I was sure Holmes would appear at any given moment.

"Some nights, Holmes and Watson engage in the most interesting of conversations. Those tend to take place more frequently when they have a case on their hands, and this is one of those nights," Basil told me as he calmly paced towards a violin that was resting against Holmes' armchair. So he also played the violin? I only hoped he played better than Basil and he had the decency of playing during the day. As I ventured further inside, I was surprised at how similar this home and Basil's were; I hadn't paid too much attention when I was first there. When it came to chaos, though, Basil's took the prize.

"And so, I come up here to… just listen."

It could've been because of his not so well disguised tiredness, but I could notice tinges of nostalgia and joy in his voice. I had always wondered if Basil had any other kind of contact with the outside world he could resort to when not on a case; knowing him though, that was highly unlikely.

"I never thought you'd come up here. What if they see you?" I asked, but he merely chuckled. Of course, it was worrying to think that he could be discovered, but that gesture had told me he was more than ready… or perhaps, he didn't even care. It was unbelievable. "I should've known better than to question your readiness."

"It's not that, Dawson," Basil said as he reached up to touch one of the violin's strings. "I can be discovered at any time, that much is painfully clear, but I don't know why it lacks so much importance when I think about it. You see- oh, in fact, I was discovered once."

I was struck with surprise, but Basil quickly laid a hand on my shoulder. Whatever ordeal had he gone through to escape?

"I'm still here, chap!" he exclaimed. "No need to be so surprised. But yes, it happened, and I had to run for my life to escape from Ms. Hudson's sharp gaze and deadly broom. She can be quite observant when the situation requires it; she's the landlady, after all! It was worth it, though."

When Basil suddenly felt silent, I decided not to put any more pressure on him with any more questions. I was genuinely concerned. There was a glint in his eyes that revealed the inner turmoil he was dealing with, for reasons that were still unknown to me. The silence was uncomfortable, longer than I wanted it to be, until Basil turned and looked at me with almost an apologetic gaze. Oh, how I wished I could understand him.

"I hope you can forgive me for disturbing your sleep these days, doctor," Basil said, spreading his hands. He frowned. "I should've gone unnoticed, blast it. It would seem that curiousness sometimes outwits care."

I chuckled. "Rest assured, I can always get it back as long as _you_ do so, too, Basil," I replied, pointing a finger at him. I had the liberty of doing so and even acting in a harsher way, given I was the doctor and it was his health which had me concerned, but Basil would always ignore not the advice, but my tone, so I didn't try. "Haven't you thought how it may affect your state of mind when on a case?"

"I appreciate your concern," Basil spoke with a nod, "but you know how far I can go to see a case solved." He turned his back to me again and paced towards the unlit fireplace. "Still, I suppose I haven't had my state in mind. A brilliant deduction, don't you agree?" He flashed me a brief smile before rubbing his temple. "Blast…"

I asked a question that suddenly came to mind before I could stop myself. "Basil, what's keeping you in such a mood?" He snapped his head at me, eyes not at all unkind, but he took his time to reply. "With that I mean to say that your mood tonight is… let's say unusual. I know how tiredness can affect someone's mood, but I have to say that that may not be your case; not now, that is."

Basil, closing his eyes, released a long sigh. When he did that, it was to tell me he was getting ready to speak.

"Memories, Dawson, mere memories." Another smile. "And believe me, they tend to bring some nasty headaches. We used to come here more often than not to do what I've done all this time: listen to Mr. Holmes drawing out lengthy deductions from mere details. It had been his suggestion, though."

I wondered who that second companion of Basil's could be. My silence revealed my question and made him shrug matter-of-factly. I understood immediately. "You mean you and-"

"Ratigan?" he said in my stead. "Oh, most assuredly." I was surprised at his nonchalance. Ratigan had been his archenemy, for heaven's sake, and yet he treated the subject as though it was nothing. I would never understand how his grudge against the villain had dissolved so quickly. "I did tell you about how we met, didn't I?"

"Oh, yes," I uttered, recalling his narration. "I remember; how could I forget?"

"Well, that's exactly what's bothering my mind tonight: how could_ I_ forget, doctor?" Basil inquired, gesturing wildly with his arms. "Tonight of eighteen years ago is when we parted ways, and I remember the day as vividly as always." His tone hardened as he continued. "I will never forget how desperately I wanted to come up here and wave at Mr. Holmes and say 'We have a criminal on the loose!'! You wouldn't even imagine!"

I was awestruck as he spoke and so I remained when he finished. First, I realized how much of a high regard Basil held Holmes (despite the fact they were mouse and human); I could almost say Basil had been Holmes' unknown pupil. I also understood one of the reasons behind his uneasiness. On the other hand, it all led me to wonder: was Basil having his regrets? I doubted it, of course: he'd been steadfast on chasing Ratigan until he was behind bars and brought to justice, but had their friendship been as strong as I was imagining? I would never know unless Basil told me, and that would never happen.

"It saddens me that I could never do it," Basil said, looking down at the floor. "It saddens me to know that he'll never know me, but he's a human and I'm a mouse. We're worlds apart. No matter how much I want it to happen, it won't."

It was then, when Basil lifted his gaze up at me, that I felt like grinning. The sorrow that had lived in Basil's eyes was gone and had been replaced by what I could sense as hope; when he straightened again, he seemed younger and livelier. He had needed that conversation; it hadn't been just for conversation's sake.

"But at least I've got a…" Basil pulled off his thinking expression, tapping his finger to his lips and his paw on the floor, "hm, let's say a most-trusted associate and friend to assist me! Someday, I will thank you for continuing your diary."

I laughed, somehow flattered by his words. "Steady on there, Basil!" I exclaimed. "I had thought, given your reputation, that you were better off alone."

When Basil replied, I never felt more praised but, at the same time, saddened to the greatest extent.

"Time will prove you wrong, my friend, and so will I."

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_A/N: Say it, this one wasn't as good as the other one, but whatever xD I sincerely couldn't care less: though I try to improve as much as possible, there are times when I can't pull it off as nicely as I'd like to. Hm... let's say I am satisfied, after all xD_

_Reviews are appreciated!^^_


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